Anonymity, Democracy and Cyberspace

by Jonathan Wallace and Michael Green

Anonymity or pseudonymity[1] on the Internet[2] are today’s “betes noirs”. Numerous commentators have noted the dangers and have called for laws limiting or restricting anonymity. At least one state, Georgia, has already passed such a law.[3] However, proponents of such regulation have the responsibility of explaining why a settled tradition of Supreme Court jurisprudence proclaiming anonymity as a First Amendment right, culminating in the recent McIntyre v. Ohio, is inapplicable to the Internet. We take the position, however, that McIntyre and its predecessors are in fact indistinguishable, and that anonymity is as valuable a right on the Internet as it is in print media.

In this article, we argue that the abuses of anonymity, which are primarily nuisances,[4] not criminal actions, are far outweighed by the social advantages. In the first section, we briefly recount the history of anonymity in literary and political communications, from Rabelais to the present. In the second section, we analyze the Supreme Court cases on anonymity, from Bates v. Little Rock to McIntyre. In the third section, we examine anonymity in cyberspace from a sociological and legal perspective, with particular emphasis on rebutting the various arguments being advanced to support its regulation. We conclude that anonymity in cyberspace is a fundamental underpinning of democracy and of self-realization.

A Brief History of Anonymity

In 1532, Francois Rabelais began his anonymous Chronicles of the Giant Gargantua by publishing Book One, Pantagruel, and two years later, Book Two, Gargantua and Pantagruel.[5] Although Rabelais’ works were political and social satire, they were criticized as being obscene by the Sorbonne, the theological wing on the University of Paris and Book Three, written in 1546, was actually labeled as heresy.[6] The Protestant leader Calvin even distributed papers warning,

[These writers are] curs who assume the attitudes of comedy in order to enjoy greater freedom to vomit their blasphemies. They revel in banquets and they haunt libertine company where, speaking at pleasure, they leave no stone unturned in destroying all fear of God in the minds of their hearers.[7]


Rabelais had very good reason not to publish his works under his real name. Etienne Dolet, a colleague of his, was hanged and burned[8] for publishing a dialogue by Plato denying the existence of the immortal soul.[9] Today, Rabelais’ works are considered satirical masterpieces and the same country that censored them, now honors them.[10] Yet, if he had placed his name on those writings from the beginning, he would have been imprisoned, tortured and perhaps, even burned alive.

Nearly two centuries later, in colonial America, John Peter Zenger, the owner of a printing press and publisher of the Weekly Journal of New York[11] was arrested on charges of seditious libel, particularly for articles directed against British Governor William Cosby.[12] Thenewspaper contained many anonymous articles written by Zenger’s anti?British rule associates sharply criticizing the monarchy. Zenger was arrested and would not reveal the names of the authors, in particular, "Cato"[13], and so stood trial himself instead. Prior to trial however, both of Zenger's New York lawyers were disbarred for questioning the court's authority.[14]

Finally, Andrew Hamilton,[15] a well respected attorney from Philadelphia stepped up and convinced the jury so well, they only needed only a few minutes to acquit even after the judge explained to them that because Zenger had admitted what he did, he must be found guilty.[16] Hamilton's strategy of admitting to the jury that Zenger had, in fact, published the article criticizing the monarchy and then explaining to them that there was nothing libelous about it because it was all true, created the truth defense to defamation.[17] Justice Clarence Thomas says of the Zenger case:

Although the case set the colonies afire for its example of a jury refusing to convict a defendant of seditious libel against Crown authorities, it also signified at an early moment the extent to which anonymity and the freedom of the press were intertwined in the early American mind.[18]

This relationship of freedom of the press to anonymity would continue to resonate as the American republic developed. As Justice Thomas further noted,

. . . the Framer’s universal practice of publishing anonymous articles and pamphlets, indicates that the Framers shared the belief that such activity was firmly part of the freedom of the press. It is only an innovation of modern times that has permitted the regulation of anonymous speech.[19]


Forty years later, in January of 1776, Thomas Paine published the monumental Common Sense.[20] Although he originally signed it, “Written by An Englishman”, in subsequent printings, that by-line was replaced with “an admonition to cease worrying about the author’s identity and attend to what he had to say.”[21] Paine explained, “[the author] is unconnected with any party, and under no influence, public or private, but the influence of reason and principle.”[22] Paine brings out another crucial function of anonymity. When opponents to an idea focus on the person expressing the idea, rather than the idea itself, then intellectual discourse on differing viewpoints becomes lost in a war of irrelevant personal character attacks.

Paine’s anonymity did not last very long, presumably because of the popularity of the work. Indeed, to meet the growing demand for more copies, he procured several other printers to publish his pamphlet.[23] In commenting on its success, Paine said, “I believed the number of copies printed and sold in America was not short of 150,000, [and this was] the greatest sale that any performance ever had since the use of letters.”[24] Paine might not have published the work if he was required to put his name to it. Indeed, Paine's ideas were extremely radical and seditious, and he understood, as do all revolutionaries, that people responsible for such ideas are severely punished..

Many other colonial free thinkers published their thoughts, ideas and opinions under pseudonyms that described their intentions or backgrounds. They used names such as "A Son of Liberty"[25], "A Well?Wisher to Mankind"[26], "Massachusettensis"[27], "A Pennsylvanian"[28] and even just "A Friend to the Liberty of His Country,”[29] to protect themselves from a depravation of their life, liberty or property. Their fears were neither unfounded nor unreasonable. Benjamin Franklin's brother was jailed in Boston for insinuating in his newspaper that the provincial government was not taking effective action against coastal pirates and Samuel Mulford, a New York Assemblyman was expelled because he suggested other members of the Assembly were corrupt.[30]


As the Revolutionary War ended and the period of drafting our Constitution and creating our country began, anonymous pamphlets did not disappear, but actually increased dramatically.[31] The writings that are probably the most visible of the period were virtually all anonymous works. What would later become known as “The Federalist Papers” were the joint works of Alexander Hamilton, John Jay and James Madison, all highly distinguished political philosophers. Their 85 articles, penned under the collective pseudonym, “Publius” became the battleground for debating the architecture of the Constitution and our government. Publius was attacked by other anonymous authors, such as "A Federal Farmer,"[32] “Candidus”[33] and even another “Cato,”[34] commonly referred to as “Anti-Federalists.”[35] The arguments of the Federalists, and to a lesser degree, the Anti-Federalists are essential to understanding the thinking behind various Constitutional doctrines. Many courts, including the Supreme Court, have relied on them to determine what the intent was behind a phrase in the Constitution.[36]

This conflict between federal and state power reappeared in the 19th century, and once again, political writers sought anonymity. This time the issue in question was slavery and many states in the South began outlawing abolitionist expressions.[37] Although there were people like William Lloyd Garrison, who published the leading anti-slavery newspaper, The Liberator, under his own name, many authors relied on anonymity to protect themselves from the ramifications of their unpopular ideas.[38] “A Colored Baltimorean”[39] wrote several of the first articles arguing that Blacks considered themselves Americans, not Africans and further, did not want to return to Africa, but rather live in America in equality. “Communipaw” commented on “a variety of issues, including black economic and social life, scientific theories of race, antislavery strategies, and racial prejudice among white abolitionists.”[40]

Women abolitionists had even more reason to write anonymously because they were fighting prejudice on several fronts. As blacks, they were generally fighting whites against slavery. As women, they were fighting men, both white and black, for gender equality. Anonymous articles and poetry by “Magawisca”[41] and “Zillah”[42] suggested the abolitionists should address the inequality between men and women within the abolitionist movement before it could address the issue of inequality between blacks and whites within America.

Nineteenth century anonymity was not limited to political speech. Indeed, the most famous pseudonymous author in history is unquestionably Mark Twain.[43] Some nineteenth century authors, primarily women, explained their motives for writing anonymously. Mary Ann Evans, for example, was one of the most talented writers of the century. Yet, her real name is obscure compared to George Eliot, the name she chose to veil her true identity and gender. She said:

Whatever may be the success of my stories, I shall be resolute in preserving my incognito - having observed that a nom de plume secures all the advantages without the disagreeables of reputation.[44]

When pressed by the editor publishing her works to reveal her identity, Eliot replied, 


For several reasons I am very anxious to retain my incognito for some time to come, and to an author not already famous anonymity is the highest prestige. Besides if George Eliot turns out a dull dog and an ineffective writer - a mere flash in the pan - I for one am determined to cut him on the first intimation of that disagreeable fact.[45]

Anonymous political writings have continued to play a significant role in modern times. George Kennan, lauded as one of the architects of America's Cold War policy of containment, published his essay, “The Sources of Soviet Power”, anonymously in Foreign Affairs in 1947 signing it “X.”[46] It was based largely on a telegram he had sent to Secretary of the Navy James Forrestal[47] and the controversy erupted when rumors began to “connect it with the Truman Doctrine and Marshall Plan [and] speculate on its significance.”[48] Although several political leaders of the time knew Kennan was “X”, it was decades later when Kennan publicly acknowledged that he was “X”. In 1949, George Morgan[49], using the anonymous name of “Historicus”, also wrote an influential article for Foreign Affairs. 

More recently, a “thinly veiled and eerily precise account of the players and goings-on behind the 1992 Clinton campaign was written by Anonymous.”[50] The book, Primary Colors, created a race to uncover the identity of the author.[51] It is not very difficult to see why the author would not want the President to know who wrote this expose, however, the author also found another useful benefit of anonymity; marketing publicity[52]. An anonymous author is an unsolved mystery gnawing at society’s burning desire for knowledge. As such, people will purchase the book, and perhaps even read it, just to try and identify the author. Indeed, some newspapers even gave odds on who could be the possible author. Klein was 50:1.

Sometimes retaliation results from the author’s identity rather than the content of the writing. In the 1950's, many writers in the entertainment industry were labeled communists and effectively barred from working.[53] Although most, if not all of them, were not writing about political ideologies, the government was still concerned that whatever they wrote would contaminate America .[54] As a result, some were forced to write for television under pseudonyms or use the names of friends who were sympathetic to their plight just to earn a living.[55]


Today, due largely in part because of the Internet, the use of anonymity is arguably at its greatest peak. The Internet has taken the idea of anonymity to a completely new level by forcing most of its users, either actually[56] or constructively,[57] to use some kind of code-name when “surfing” the Internet. Moreover, this use of anonymity in cyberspace has created a fierce conflict between those in favor of restricting its use and those against. Recent controversies illustrate how law enforcement, courts and legislators have used the proverbial “bull in a china shop” approach when trying to balance these conflicting interests.

A major casualty of this conflict was the closing of anon.penet.fi,[58] arguably the most famous (and popular[59]) anonymous remailer.[60] Anon.penet.fi was shut down by its owner because the law in Finland concerning anonymity on the Internet is not clear. In early 1995, Finnish police, acting on a complaint by the Church of Scientology,[61] used a search warrant[62] to force anon.penet.fi to divulge the identification of a user the Church claimed had violated their copyrights by anonymously publishing certain Church documents on the Internet.[63]

****Some anonymous remailers keep a record of the identity of the user so that replies to anonymous email can be forwarded to the right individual. Others are “one way” services which strip out all identifiers without keeping track of the user’s identity. In this case, replies to the anonymous message are not possible, and subpoenas are futile, as the remailer keeps no records. In fact, anonymous one-way remailers are mainly for the convenience of users without programming skills, as it is not difficult for more sophisticated users to send anonymous email by exploiting certain features of the network.***

In spring of 1996, the Church was once again granted a search warrant by the Finnish police. This time, however, it was not to identify a particular anonymous account, but to search through the database of real accounts to see if the person they were suing now ever used the system;[64] a person who denied ever having used the system and no evidence was ever presented that he did. Anon.penet.fi refused and asked the Helsinki District Court to delay, but was denied. An appeals court temporarily stayed the District Court’s order[65] Nevertheless, although anon.penet.fi is no longer operational, many other anonymous remailers have sprung up and some now encrypt the identifying information on accounts so even the owner of the re-mailer can never determine who is really who and a search warrant would be useless.


Regulation for anonymity on the Internet must come from those who understand the Internet well enough to feel comfortable with the technology. Unfortunately, that was not the case in Georgia. In April, 1996, Georgia passed a law that made it a crime for “any person [or] any organization . . . knowingly to transmit any data through a computer network or over the transmission facilities or through the network facilities of a local telephone network for the purpose of setting up, maintaining, operating, or exchanging data with an electronic mailbox, home page, or any other electronic information storage bank or point of access to electronic, if such data uses any individual name [or] trade name, . . . to falsely identify the person [or] organization . . . transmitting such data . . .”[66]

According to its sponsors, the law was intended to prevent people from misleading the public into believing information comes from one source, when in fact, it comes from another source[67]. It’s intended purpose, however, is dwarfed by what it actually can encompass. To be criminally liable, a person must ‘falsely identify’ themselves while ‘exchanging information’ through ‘transmission facilities’ to ‘a point of access to electronic information’. The statute neither defines nor limits these terms, and as such, is an extremely over broad and vague law on its face. What you have, according to Rep. Kaye, is an “unconstitutional abrogation of the right to free speech”.[68]

For example, it would not be too difficult to include CB radios or even just the airwaves in general as “transmission facilities”, nor would it be a stretch of technology to call a fax machine, pager or even a telephone handset or television a “point of access to electronic information.” Factor in the “falsely identify” provision, and then take into consideration that handles[69], screen names[70], nicknames and even pager codes[71] fit right into that category.

This level of overbreadth and vagueness is the result of a group of people regulating something on which they have not yet been fully educated. Without thorough and informed discussion and debate, a logical and practical decision cannot be made. Rep. George Grindley (R-GA) agrees,

[a]s one who was present for all the debate and discussion on this issue, it is sobering to realize that so few people could have such a large impact on an issue they know so little about. Other states need not follow in our footsteps. . . .[T]he House Council that drafted this legislation was "netless" and the finished product illustrates this basic lack of understanding. It reminds me of the song that says, "don't try to describe the ocean if you've never seen it." [72]

Even more unfortunate is the possibility that this law was originally intended to target a particular site on the Internet; one maintained by Rep. Kaye of the GA House.[73] Rep. Kaye, who opposed the bill during debate on the House floor is now a plaintiff in a lawsuit spearheaded by the ACLU[74]. His site, the Conservative Policy Caucus, disseminates information about Rep. Kaye’s personal, albeit ultra-conservative, viewpoints and opinions relating to the ‘goings on’ in a state legislature.


Nevertheless, although this ‘legislation by haste’ may be the trend,[75] the court's decision in ACLU v. Miller will take place against a rich background of Supreme Court case law on anonymity where the prevailing theme throughout has been confirming the existence of a First Amendment right to engage in anonymous discourse.

The Supreme Court Looks at Anonymity

All of the cases decided by the Supreme Court have been based on the premise that the protection of anonymous speech will lead to more vigorous political debate in the United States.[76] The Court appears to be very cognizant of the fact that, even in a democracy with strong freedom of speech protections, the holders of unpopular opinions are frequently harassed by the government and by private parties who strongly disagree with them.[77] Any prohibition of anonymous political speech harms democracy by limiting the range of available ideas to mainstream ones unlikely to lead to negative consequences for the speaker. The Court also bases its rulings on the premise that the First Amendment freedom of association is meaningless without an associated right of anonymity in one’s associations.

The lead case in the modern jurisprudence of anonymity is National Association for the Advancement of Colored People v. Alabama, 357 U.S. 449 (1958), in which the NAACP resisted Alabama’s attempt to require it to disclose the identity of its members. In a lawsuit brought to challenge NAACP’s right to do business in Alabama, the state had attempted to subpoena the organization’s membership list. The organization refused to produce the list and the court held it in civil contempt and fined it $100,000.00. Id. at 466. Basing its reasoning on the First Amendment right to freedom of association, the Court noted that:

It is hardly a novel perception that compelled disclosure of affiliation with groups engaged in advocacy may constitute as effective a restraint on freedom of association as the forms of governmental action in the cases above were thought likely to produce upon the particular constitutional rights there involved. This court has recognized the vital relationship between freedom to associate and privacy in one's associations. . . . Inviolability of privacy in group association may in many circumstances be indispensable to preservation of freedom of association, particularly where a group espouses dissident beliefs. Id. at 462.


The NAACP proved that past compelled disclosure of its membership had resulted in “economic reprisal, loss of employment, threat of physical coercion, and other manifestations of public hostility.”Id. Under the circumstances, the Court thought it likely that allowing Alabama to force disclosure of the membership lists in the present action would “[a]ffect adversely the ability of petitioner and its members to pursue their collective effort to foster beliefs which they admittedly have the right to advocate, in that it may induce members to withdraw from the association and dissuade others from joining it because of fear of exposure of their beliefs shown through their associations and of the consequences of this exposure.” Id.

Alabama argued that private harassment of NAACP members whose identity became known was not state action. Since there was no governmental harm threatened, it was inappropriate to invoke the First Amendment in protection of the NAACP membership’s right to privacy. The Court disagreed.

It is not sufficient to answer, as the state does here, that whatever repressive effect compulsory disclosure of names of petitioner's members may have upon participation by Alabama citizens in petitioner's activities follows not from state action but from private community pressures. The crucial factor is the interplay of governmental and private action, for it is only after the initial exertion of state power represented by the production order that private action takes hold. Id. at 463.

The Court then concluded:

We hold that the immunity from state scrutiny of membership lists which the association claims on behalf of its members is here so related to the right of the members to pursue their lawful private interests privately and to associate freely with others in so doing as to come within the protection of the Fourteenth Amendment. And we conclude that Alabama has fallen short of showing a controlling justification for the deterrent effect on the free enjoyment of the right to associate which disclosure of membership lists is likely to have. Id. at 466.


Two years later, in Bates v. Little Rock, 361 U.S. 516 (1960) the Court was again faced with the question whether a state, this time Arkansas, could compel the NAACP to disclose its membership. Little Rock had adopted a local ordinance requiring the organization to register and to list its members.[78] The official rationale was that only by requiring this information could the municipality determine if the NAACP’s activities were subject to a state license tax. The NAACP wrote to the authorities, declining to name its members, based on the “anti-NAACP climate in this state,” fear of “harassment, economic reprisals, and even bodily harm”, and “the right of our members and contributors to participate in the activities of the NAACP anonymously, a right which has been recognized as the basic right of every American citizen since the founding of this country....”[79]

Bates, an NAACP official, was tried, convicted, and fined for a violation of the ordinance. Evidence was introduced at trial that members of the organization had failed to renew their membership because of the passage of the ordinance and that those whose names became known in the community had been subjected to harassment and to threats of physical harm. The Court held: 

Like freedom of speech and a free press, the right of peaceable assembly was considered by the framers of our constitution to lie at the foundation of a government based upon the consent of an informed citizenry -- a government dedicated to the establishment of justice and the preservation of liberty. . . . [A]nd it is now beyond dispute that freedom of association for the purpose of advancing ideas and airing grievances is protected by the due process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment from invasion by the states. . . . Freedoms such as these are protected not only against heavy-handed frontal attack, but also from being stifled by more subtle governmental interference . . . . [cites omitted] Id. at 522.

Citing NAACP v. Alabama, See note xx, supra, the Supreme Court again held that forced disclosure of NAACP membership lists would significantly interfere with the First Amendment right of freedom of association, as applied to the states via the Fourteenth Amendment. Id. at 523. The Court then balanced the potential harm to the organization’s members against the state’s interest in knowing their names and applied its “strict scrutiny” approach, asking whether the state had a compelling interest in the information and whether the ordinance was narrowly tailored and least restrictive means to achieve the goal. 

It was as an adjunct of their power to impose occupational license taxes that the cities enacted the legislation here in question. But governmental action does not automatically become reasonably related to the achievement of a legitimate and substantial governmental purpose by mere assertion in the preamble of an ordinance. Id. at 525.

Searching the record, the Court found no “relevant correlation” between the state’s license taxing power and the ordinance. Id. Arkansas was unable to show that any activity of the NAACP was taxable under the state’s laws. Arkansas had never levied a tax against the NAACP, nor had the organization ever applied for an exemption from any Arkansas tax. The Court voided the judgment below, concluding that:


The municipalities have failed to demonstrate a controlling justification for the deterrence of free association which compulsory disclosure of the membership lists would cause. The petitioners cannot be punished for refusing to produce information which the municipalities could not constitutionally require. Id. at 527.

Justices Black, joined by Justice Douglas, in a concurring opinion, added the following explanation of the Court’s intentions:

Moreover, we believe . . . that First Amendment rights are beyond abridgment either by legislation that directly restrains their exercise or by suppression or impairment through harassment, humiliation, or exposure by government. One of those rights, freedom of assembly, includes of course freedom of association; and it is entitled to no less protection than any other First Amendment right . . . . These are principles applicable to all people under our constitution irrespective of their race, color, politics, or religion. That is, for us, the essence of the present opinion of the court. [cites omitted] Id. at 528.

That same year, the Court decided Talley v. California, 362 U.S. 60 (1960) which raised a very different question: Could the state constitutionally require every author of a leaflet to disclose his name in it? Talley was convicted and fined for a violation of a Los Angeles municipal ordinance requiring every handbill to carry the name of the individual who “caused” it to be distributed. Id at 61. Organizations were required to disclose the name of an agent or principal on the handbill. Talley had distributed leaflets in the name of “National Consumer Mobilization” calling for the boycott of local businesses which carried the products of allegedly discriminatory manufacturers. These leaflets failed to disclose Talley’s name. Id.

The Court took a sweeping view of the political importance of anonymity:

Anonymous pamphlets, leaflets, brochures and even books have played an important role in the progress of mankind. Persecuted groups and sects from time to time throughout history have been able to criticize oppressive practices and laws either anonymously or not at all. Id. at 64.

The Court reviewed the history of the British press licensing law as applied to the colonies,[80] the sedition acts,[81] the anonymous Junius papers[82] and the Federalist papers[83]. Citing NAACP and Bates, it concluded:


We have recently had occasion to hold in two cases that there are times and circumstances when States may not compel members of groups engaged in the dissemination of ideas to be publicly identified . . . . The reason for those holdings was that identification and fear of reprisal might deter perfectly peaceful discussions of public matters of importance. This broad Los Angeles ordinance is subject to the same infirmity. We hold that it, like the Griffin, Georgia, ordinance, is void on its face. [cites omitted] Id. at 65.

Justice Harlan filed a concurring opinion, addressing the state’s claimed interest in suppressing anonymous speech.

Here the State says that this ordinance is aimed at the prevention of “fraud, deceit, false advertising, negligent use of words, obscenity, and libel,” in that it will aid in the detection of those responsible for spreading material of that character. But the ordinance is not so limited, and I think it will not do for the State simply to say that the circulation of all anonymous handbills must be suppressed in order to identify the distributors of those that may be of an obnoxious character. Id. at 66.

Justice Clark, joined by Justices Frankfurter and Whittaker dissenting, distinguished this case from the NAACP cases. He noted a complete absence from the record of any evidence that Talley would be harmed by disclosing his name on the leaflet. “Talley makes no showing whatever to support his contention that a restraint upon his freedom of speech will result from the enforcement of the ordinance. The existence of such a restraint is necessary before we can strike the ordinance down.” Id. at 69. Citing federal laws requiring disclosure of a magazine’s ownership before it can use the mails, the registration of political lobbyists, and state laws regarding the disclosure of campaign contributors, Justice Clark finished with a rhetorical flourish:

Is Talley's anonymous handbill, designed to destroy the business of a commercial establishment, passed out at its very front door, and attacking its then lawful commercial practices, more comportable with First Amendment freedoms? I think not. Id. at 71.

In Brown v. Socialist Workers Campaign Committee, 459 U.S. 87 (1982) the Court considered whether the First Amendment requires a right to anonymity for contributors to political campaigns and the recipients of campaign expenditures. The Socialist Workers Party, an unpopular minority party running candidates in state elections in Ohio, brought an action challenging disclosure provisions of the Ohio Campaign Expense Reporting Law. Justice Marshall, writing for the majority, noted that Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U.S. 1 (1976), had held that the First Amendment prohibits the government from compelling disclosures by a minor political party that can show a "reasonable probability" that the compelled disclosures will subject those identified to "threats, harassment, or reprisals." Brown, 459 U.S. at 88.


The task before the Court was now to determine whether that language, essentially a sidelight in the Buckley decision on post-Nixon era campaign finance laws, applied to protect the Socialist Workers’ Party. The party, which only had sixty members in Ohio, did not advocate violence but had nonetheless been the object of continuing government surveillance and private harassment. The Court’s account of government surveillance and private harassment of the Socialist Workers’ Party is quite sobering.[84]

Up until 1976, the FBI had investigated all the party’s financial transactions and kept track of the payees of all its checks. Party members had received threatening phone calls and hate mail, party literature had been burned and members’ property destroyed; a party candidate had been harassed by the police; and shots had been fired at a party office. In the year prior to trial, twenty-two members had been fired from their jobs because of their political affiliations, including four in Ohio. For years the FBI had conducted a counter-intelligence “disruption” program against the party, flooding it with paid informants, disclosing party members’ criminal records to the press, sending anonymous letters intended to stir up dissension, and distributing intelligence reports to numerous other branches of government. In the end, the government had accumulated about 8,000,000 documents on the Socialist Workers’ Party, had 300 paid informants who were party members and regularly received information on party activities from 1,000 other non-members.

The Court held that the Socialist Workers’ Party was entitled to the protection envisioned in Buckley and was exempt under the Ohio law from disclosing either its contributors or the recipients of its expenditures:

The First Amendment prohibits a state from compelling disclosures by a minor party that will subject those persons identified to the reasonable probability of threats, harassment or reprisals. Such disclosures would infringe the First Amendment rights of the party and its members and supporters. In light of the substantial evidence of past and present hostility from private persons and government officials against the SWP, Ohio's campaign disclosure requirements cannot be constitutionally applied to the Ohio SWP. The judgment of the three-judge District Court for the Southern District of Ohio is affirmed. Id. at 101.

Justice O’Connor, joined by Chief Justice Rehnquist and Justice Stevens, dissenting in part agreed that disclosure of the party’s contributors should be exempt under Buckley. However, they did not agree that the Court should have held the payees of the party’s expense checks to be similarly exempt.

[T]he SWP has failed to carry its burden of showing that there is a reasonable probability that disclosure of recipients of expenditures will subject the recipients themselves or the SWP to threats, harassment, or reprisals. Moreover, the strong public interest in fair and honest elections outweighs any damage done to the associational rights of the party and its members by application of the state's expenditure-disclosure law. Id. at 107.


Noting that Buckley had generally held campaign finance disclosure rules to be constitutional because of a strong government interest in preventing the influencing and buying of elections, the dissenters pointed out that even a minority party can swing an election. 

Certainly the SWP could have this effect. For example, appellants noted at oral argument that the SWP candidate in the 1974 Ohio gubernatorial election received some 95,000 votes. The Republican candidate's margin of victory over the Democratic candidate was only some 13,500 votes. The impact of minor parties on elections in the United States is well documented. Id. at 110, n5.

Moreover, they argue, business providers of services to a minority party are less likely to be frightened away by disclosure of their names than contributors are. 

Unlike silent contributors, whom disclosure would reveal to the public as supporters of the party's ideological positions, persons providing business services to a minor party are not generally perceived by the public as supporting the party's ideology, and thus are unlikely to be harassed if their names are disclosed. Id. at 111.

The dissenters conclude that “the record, read in its entirety, does not suggest that disclosure of recipients of expenditures would lead to harassment of recipients or reprisals to the party or its members.” Id. at 114.

The Court’s most recent statement on anonymity is McIntyre v. Ohio Campaign Commission, 115 S.Ct. 1511 (1995) another case involving an Ohio law.[85] Like the law overturned in Talley, See note xx, supra, this ordinance was intended to identify the authors of handbills. Unlike the Talley ordinance however, it applied only to handbills distributed in connection with political campaigns. The defendant, Mrs. McIntyre, was an Ohio housewife who printed and distributed leaflets in connection with a local school board campaign. She identified herself on some of these, but neglected to do so on others. She was fined for violation of the ordinance and appealed.[86]

The Supreme Court, in an opinion written by Justice Stevens, cited Talley for the proposition that “[a]nonymous pamphlets, leaflets, brochures and even books have played an important role in the progress of mankind.” Id. at 1516. Several aspects of the opinion are more nuanced than Talley or any of the other predecessor decisions. First, the Court affirmed that the right of anonymity applies to a range of speech much broader than simply political discourse:


Great works of literature have frequently been produced by authors writing under assumed names. Despite readers' curiosity and the public's interest in identifying the creator of a work of art, an author generally is free to decide whether or not to disclose her true identity. The decision in favor of anonymity may be motivated by fear of economic or official retaliation, by concern about social ostracism, or merely by a desire to preserve as much of one's privacy as possible. Whatever the motivation may be, at least in the field of literary endeavor, the interest in having anonymous works enter the marketplace of ideas unquestionably outweighs any public interest in requiring disclosure as a condition of entry. Accordingly, an author's decision to remain anonymous, like other decisions concerning omissions or additions to the content of a publication, is an aspect of the freedom of speech protected by the First Amendment. Id.

Secondly, the Court identified the legal requirement to add one’s name to a leaflet as more than mere government force, dubious in itself where protected speech is concerned. Disclosure requirements, the Court held, are government force directed to content; when you add your name to a leaflet, you are literally adding text that you might not have added but for government compulsion. The Court thus compared the Ohio ordinance to the Florida newspaper right-of-reply law it had overturned in Miami Herald v. Tornillo 418 U.S. 241(1974):

Insofar as the interest in informing the electorate means nothing more than the provision of additional information that may either buttress or undermine the argument in a document, we think the identity of the speaker is no different from other components of the document's content that the author is free to include or exclude. . . . The simple interest in providing voters with additional relevant information does not justify a state requirement that a writer make statements or disclosures she would otherwise omit. [cites omitted] McIntyre 115 S.Ct at 1519.

Third, the Court noted that speech can be more effective sometimes if the speaker’s identity is unknown. 

On occasion, quite apart from any threat of persecution, an advocate may believe her ideas will be more persuasive if her readers are unaware of her identity. Anonymity thereby provides a way for a writer who may be personally unpopular to ensure that readers will not prejudge her message simply because they do not like its proponent. Thus, even in the field of political rhetoric, where the identity of the speaker is an important component of many attempts to persuade, the most effective advocates have sometimes opted for anonymity. [cite omitted] Id. at 1517.

Ohio had argued a compelling interest in regulating fraud and libel in election-related speech. Though the Court acknowledged that Ohio had a legitimate interest in doing so, the ordinance was over broad because it went much further than necessary to protect this interest:


As this case demonstrates, the prohibition encompasses documents that are not even arguably false or misleading. It applies not only to the activities of candidates and their organized supporters, but also to individuals acting independently and using only their own modest resources. It applies not only to elections of public officers, but also to ballot issues that present neither a substantial risk of libel nor any potential appearance of corrupt advantage. It applies not only to leaflets distributed on the eve of an election, when the opportunity for reply is limited, but also to those distributed months in advance. It applies no matter what the character or strength of the author's interest in anonymity. Moreover, as this case also demonstrates, the absence of the author's name on a document does not necessarily protect either that person or a distributor of a forbidden document from being held responsible for compliance with the election code. Id. at 1521

Ohio had more narrowly-tailored remedies available to it to prosecute illegal election-related speech. “[I]t cannot seek to punish fraud indirectly by indiscriminately outlawing a category of speech, based on its content, with no necessary relationship to the danger sought to be prevented. One would be hard pressed to think of a better example of the pitfalls of Ohio's blunderbuss approach than the facts of the case before us.” Id. at 1524.

The Court concluded by noting, as it had in Talley, the hallowed tradition of anonymity in American political discourse. 

Under our Constitution, anonymous pamphleteering is not a pernicious, fraudulent practice, but an honorable tradition of advocacy and of dissent. Anonymity is a shield from the tyranny of the majority. . . . It thus exemplifies the purpose behind the Bill of Rights, and of the First Amendment in particular: to protect unpopular individuals from retaliation--and their ideas from suppression-at the hand of an intolerant society. The right to remain anonymous may be abused when it shields fraudulent conduct. But political speech by its nature will sometimes have unpalatable consequences, and, in general, our society accords greater weight to the value of free speech than to the dangers of its misuse. [cites omitted] Id. at 1524.

Justice Thomas, concurring in the result, protested the Court’s philosophical approach, preferring to analyze the “original intent” of the drafters of the Constitution. He found that anonymity, though not mentioned in the Constitution, was a vital part of political discourse in the early colonies. His opinion makes highly interesting reading, whether or not you agree with his methodology. “There is little doubt that the Framers engaged in anonymous political writing. The essays in the Federalist Papers, published under the pseudonym of Publius, are only the most famous example of the outpouring of anonymous political writing that occurred during the ratification of the Constitution.” Id. at 1525, Thomas concurring.


Justice Thomas quoted a Pennsylvania governor, writing anonymously in 1784 to criticize a state official: “And pray may not a man, in a free country, convey thro' t he press his sentiments on publick grievances . . . without being obliged to send a certified copy of the baptismal register to prove his name.”Id. at 1527. He further noted that official attempts to end or deter anonymity are frequently incidental to party conflicts and represent egregious abuses of political power. With some irony, he related the story of the Federalists, who themselves wrote anonymously, pressuring newspapers to refuse to print the Anti-Federalists’ replies without disclosure of the author’s name. “ When Federalist attempts to ban anonymity are followed by a sharp, widespread Anti-Federalist defense in the name of the freedom of the press, and then by an open Federalist retreat on the issue, I must conclude that both Anti-Federalists and Federalists believed that the freedom of the press included the right to publish without revealing the author's name.” Id. at 1528.

Distinguishing between the “original intent” approach and the “historical” acceptance and widespread use of anonymity, Justice Thomas noted:

Whether great works of literature--by Voltaire or George Eliot have been published anonymously should be irrelevant to our analysis, because it sheds no light on what the phrases ‘free speech’ or ‘free press’ meant to the people who drafted and ratified the First Amendment. Similarly, whether certain types of expression have ‘value’ today has little significance; what is important is whether the Framers in 1791 believed anonymous speech sufficiently valuable to deserve the protection of the Bill of Rights. Id. at 1530.

After reviewing the historical evidence, Justice Thomas concluded that “ it seems that the Framers understood the First Amendment to protect an author's right to express his thoughts on political candidates or issues in an anonymous fashion. Because the majority has adopted an analysis that is largely unconnected to the Constitution's text and history, I concur only in the judgment.” Id.

Justice Scalia, joined by Chief Justice Rehnquist, dissenting, complained poignantly that the majority preferred the “views of the English utilitarian philosopher John Stuart Mill . . . to the considered judgment of the American people's elected representatives from coast to coast.” Id. at 1531. Further, the dissenters suggested that the Court had discovered “a hitherto unknown right-to-be-unknown while engaging in electoral politics.” Id.

The dissenters used a modified “original intent” approach. Distinguishing the precedents cited by Justice Thomas, they noted that the Founders had never specifically approved, or engaged in, anonymous electioneering, and that, to the contrary, there was a long, unbroken history of states outlawing the practice. 


A governmental practice that has become general throughout the United States, and particularly one that has the validation of long, accepted usage, bears a strong presumption of constitutionality. And that is what we have before us here. Section 3599.09(A) was enacted by the General Assembly of the State of Ohio almost 80 years ago.... Even at the time of its adoption, there was nothing unique or extraordinary about it. Id. at 1532.

The dissenters went on to give numerous other examples of state laws barring anonymity in political campaigns and distinguished the NAACP cases, Tally and Brown on the grounds that each had involved a real threat of harm to the speakers and the necessity to exempt them from legal disclosure requirements to protect them from that harm. “But those cases did not acknowledge any general right to anonymity, or even any right on the part of all citizens to ignore the particular laws under challenge.” Id. at 1534. After giving several hypothetical situations, each more outlandish than the last, the dissenters concluded that “[t]he silliness that follows upon a generalized right to anonymous speech has no end.” Id. at 1535.

They also suggested that an anti-anonymity ordinance would be likely to deter behavior that the state has a reasonable interest in preventing.

[A] person who is required to put his name to a document is much less likely to lie than one who can lie anonymously, and [] the distributor of a leaflet which is unlawful because it is anonymous runs much more risk of immediate detection and punishment than the distributor of a leaflet which is unlawful because it is false. Thus, people will be more likely to observe a signing requirement than a naked “no falsity” requirement; and, having observed that requirement, will then be significantly less likely to lie in what they have signed. Id. at 1536.

They noted the common complaint that campaign rhetoric had become dirtier and nastier in recent years. “Imagine how much all of this would increase if it could be done anonymously. The principal impediment against it is the reluctance of most individuals and organizations to be publicly associated with uncharitable and uncivil expression. Consider, moreover, the increased potential for ‘dirty tricks.’” Id.

The dissenters saw no parallel to Tornillo, which after all had required a newspaper to print an opposing viewpoint, compelling it to publish content not at all comparable to the mere addition of a name. 

But it is not usual for a speaker to put forward the best arguments against himself, and it is a great imposition upon free speech to make him do so. Whereas it is quite usual--it is expected--for a speaker to identify himself, and requiring that is (at least when there are no special circumstances present) virtually no imposition at all. Id.


In summary, the dissenters said that they could imagine “no reason why an anonymous leaflet is any more honorable, as a general matter, than an anonymous phone call or an anonymous letter. It facilitates wrong by eliminating accountability, which is ordinarily the very purpose of the anonymity.” They focus on the negative aspects of anonymity and fail to consider the importance of the positive side of anonymous discourse. Therefore they do not balance these two factors as the majority does and do not come to their logical conclusion. “The interest in having anonymous works enter the marketplace of ideas unquestionably outweighs any public interest in requiring disclosure as a condition of entry.” Id. at 1516.

Many of the opponents of anonymity on the Internet echo these views as well and they also fail, as do the dissenters, to balance the advantages to society against the nuisances. Indeed, the Internet is the ultimate “marketplace of ideas” and any regulation of anonymous communication on the Internet must analyze both the relevant Supreme Court jurisprudence and the prevailing use of anonymity in cyberspace.

Anonymity in Cyberspace

The Supreme Court’s rulings on anonymity and freedom of speech create a rule that is so simple and clear that it seems necessarily to apply it to cyberspace communications. It is difficult to draw any logical distinction between Talley’s or McIntyre’s handbills and an anonymous email criticizing the employment practices of a corporation or commenting on a local school board race. The same interest in diverse political discourse that supports the result where a paper leaflet is concerned seems clearly to apply to the electronic bits transmitted when an email is sent.


There are only two pathways to a contrary result. One approach involves finding that the world of electronic communication is sui generis and that precedents such as Talley See, note xxx, supra are irrelevant. Thus, regulation which would not be tolerated for more familiar forms of speech, such as Talley’s handbill, are considered acceptable for the Internet. A second, more sophisticated approach is to recognize the significance of precedent, but also to distinguish it based on supposed differences between electronic speech and other forms, such as its pervasiveness, volume, cheapness and ease of access. <